


At Last

by CaliHart



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Clint Barton, Both of those in ch 3, Bucky recounts it briefly to Clint, Demisexual Bucky Barnes, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Genderfluid Bucky Barnes, M/M, Mutual Pining, Offscreen Bucky/OMC, Pining, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, They don't even kiss until almost the very end so be patient, Trans Clint Barton, Trans Male Character, offscreen transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-11 21:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12943824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliHart/pseuds/CaliHart
Summary: Bucky and Clint are little more than teammates for the longest time. All it takes is one time sharing a bed and an accidental cuddle to push them into being friends.For a pair of super spies, it sure takes them a long time to realize they're not just friends.~~“You want left or right?” he asks.“Um, what?”“Left or right side of the bed? Obviously we gotta share. When I told the front desk you were gonna be my roommate, I think they assumed I was your girlfriend or something.” He shrugs without ever looking away from the tv. “I’ve shared smaller beds with bigger people, it doesn’t bother me.” Clint rubs the back of his neck and then points to the left side. He can’t sleep with his hearing aids in and he’s used to reaching left for them when he wakes up. Barnes silently scoots over to the right side. “Just give me a kick if the arm bothers you.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The art by Fox that this fic was written for can be found [here](https://foxprints.tumblr.com/post/168379156890/my-third-and-final-piece-for-the) and embedded in the final chapter. Go check it out! Much thanks to my alpha reader, Dottie, for helping me out with this even though it's not her ship! It would've taken ages to finish without her.
> 
> The working title for this was Winterhawk cuddlefest, which should clue you in to the content.

Clint slumps into the conference room and drops into one of the empty seats next to Barnes. He’s not late exactly, not the last one in the room, but he’s cutting it close if the glare from Maria is any indication. He sinks lower in the chair to hide behind Barnes, who snorts. Another few people hurry in, trailing papers and bandages, and then the door closes. 

“Thank you all for being here today,” Maria says with a pointed look around the room. “The mission on the table is an infiltration job. We need one person to get on the inside and get what we need, one lookout from a sniper position preferably, and four as backup and bodyguards for the one going in. Any volunteers?” 

Clint glances around the room at the dozen guys sitting around the table. There’s more than double what’s needed for the op, which means Maria is really giving them the choice. From what he’s memorized of the SHIELD personnel files, Clint can identify two others who could fill the sniper position. He might not be needed on this one after all. 

“What’s the catch?” a man named Colfer asks. Maria doesn’t answer immediately, putting them all on edge. 

“The infiltrating agent needs to go in as a woman. Unfortunately, all of our female agents are otherwise engaged.” 

Uproar. Protests are called out and soon the men are arguing amongst each other and with Maria. None of the words enter Clint’s brain. He’s too busy panicking internally that Maria is going to ask him to do the infiltration. Clint’s not that great an actor; he can and has done undercover work, but trying to pretend to be a woman would push right beyond his limits. 

“When is the mission?” One calm, clear voice cuts through the noise, and Clint turns to look at Barnes next to him. 

“In three days,” Maria answers. Barnes rubs his chin thoughtfully. 

“Alright, so I’ll have time to shave. Do you have a dress in my size?” he asks. Maria slides over a folder and he flips through it. The rest of the men have since gone silent, everyone watching him. “Can I pick my team?” 

“If they agree,” Maria says, gesturing around the table. Barnes looks consideringly at each of them. 

“I want Barton for my sniper, and Long, Robinson, Boone, and Brooks for my backup.” 

“Cool, I’m out,” Colfer says, practically launching himself from his chair. Voices raise again as the four men talk with the others, and Clint turns to Barnes. 

“You want me to be your sniper? But…” 

“Would you rather be a bodyguard?” Barnes asks, raising an eyebrow. Clint pauses and thinks it over before shaking his head. “Good. So, unless you don’t wanna go at all, you’ll be my sniper.” Barnes hands over the folder, and Clint flips through it, frowning. 

“There’s not much actual sniping to do.” 

“Maybe not, but I’d rather have someone I trust watching me through a scope.” Barnes stands and goes to talk to Maria, and Clint stares unseeingly at the folder. Barnes trusts him?

~~

The mission goes off without a hitch. Barnes actually looks surprisingly good in a red dress and heels, makeup flawless courtesy of Clint. (All that practice making up the faces of performers in the circus came in handy for something after all.) He’s still nervous up in his perch until Barnes, Long, and Boone move to the extraction point, where Robinson is waiting with a car. Clint and Brooks stay and watch for a while to make sure there will be no backlash after the fact, and then head to the hotel to meet with the others. They’ve been assigned rooms in pairs, and when Clint gets to the one he’s sharing with Barnes, he walks in to find his roommate for the night half naked, the dress bunched around Barnes’s waist. He throws his hand up to cover his eyes by reflex, then internally berates himself for it. 

“Um,” he says, feeling his face heat. Barnes chuckles. 

“Aw, Barton, you sure know how to treat a girl. I ain’t that shy, but give me a minute to grab a change of clothes and I’ll go shower.” 

Clint just nods and waits until he hears the bathroom door close before dropping his hand, blowing out a breath and pushing his hair back off his forehead. That’s when he notices there’s only one bed in the room. 

 

Clint avoids the subject by slipping into the bathroom as soon as Barnes emerges. 

 

When he returns from the bathroom after his own shower, he finds that he and Barnes are both dressed in SHIELD standard issue sweats and t-shirts. Barnes is sprawled across the bed, flipping through silent tv channels with a bored expression. 

“You want left or right?” he asks. 

“Um, what?” 

“Left or right side of the bed? Obviously we gotta share. When I told the front desk you were gonna be my roommate, I think they assumed I was your girlfriend or something.” He shrugs without ever looking away from the tv. “I’ve shared smaller beds with bigger people, it doesn’t bother me.” Clint rubs the back of his neck and then points to the left side. He can’t sleep with his hearing aids in and he’s used to reaching left for them when he wakes up. Barnes silently scoots over to the right side. “Just give me a kick if the arm bothers you.” 

“I’m not gonna kick you, but okay.” Clint checks the room’s security, checks in briefly with the rest of the team (he’s sure _they_ all have separate beds), and makes sure the curtains are drawn over the window before settling awkwardly into bed. He sets his hearing aids aside and then lies there stiffly until Barnes turns off the tv and the light and squirms down under the covers. Barnes wiggles around to get comfortable and throws an arm over Clint’s waist. 

_Go to sleep Clint,_ Barnes finger-spells against his stomach, sighing against his ear. Clint swallows down the nerves, closes his eyes, and surprises himself with how fast he falls asleep. 

~~

Clint wakes up with Barnes holding his hand. Barnes is still asleep, his fingers twitching against Clint’s palm, their feet tangled together. Clint carefully untangles himself and heads into the bathroom for his morning routine. When he exits, Barnes is sitting up in bed, stretching. His bedhead is adorable. 

...wait, what? 

Barnes says something, but he does it while yawning, his mouth stretched out, so Clint can’t read his lips. 

“What?” 

_Morning. Breakfast soon?_ he signs. 

“Yeah, just gotta pack up first,” he says. Clint lets Barnes take his own turn at the bathroom, changing his clothes and packing up their gear for extraction later in the morning. Barnes comes out with his hair in a bun and oh, that’s...that’s not much better. Clint busies himself with his hearing aids while Barnes gets dressed, and then they head down to the hotel’s breakfast room. The rest of the team is already there. Long smirks at Clint with a pointed glance at Barnes, and Clint turns pink while he kicks Long under the table. They barely talk over breakfast, playing the sleep deprived grumpy-before-coffee business men on a company-paid vacation. Extraction goes smoothly, debriefing is short, and then they are released to go home and unwind. 

~~

It keeps happening. 

The next handful of missions that Clint and Barnes go on together, somehow they always end up sharing a bed. More than once Clint wakes up with Barnes spooned up behind him, or tangling their limbs together in a fair impression of an octopus. 

...Clint finds that he really doesn’t mind it that much. 

~~

As Avengers, they are sometimes required to do Avengers-specific training separate from SHIELD. One of these training events calls them to the Avengers facility upstate, which has a basement as big as a football field that can be rearranged and customized for different types of training. Today is an Official Training Day, scheduled months in advance to make sure everyone can attend, barring extreme illnesses or emergencies. (You can’t get out of it with a cold; Clint’s tried.) Steve is super particular about it. Clint refers to days like these, when the team is split down the middle to go head to head, as ‘shirts vs skins’. It drives Steve crazy, but Clint has caught a few people chuckling after overhearing him so it’s worth it. 

Clint, Barnes, and Natasha fly in together on a SHIELD quinjet. Steve and Sam have been at the facility for a while already, making sure things are set up right for the Training Day. Wanda and Pietro meet them on the way into the building. Inside, they find a maze that reminds Clint of the one from Harry Potter...or The Maze Runner. He doesn’t have a good feeling about it. 

The majority of the team is already there, and Steve looks excited to see them. 

“Hello, team!” he says, clapping his hands together. “Sam helped me come up with today’s exercise! We’re going to draw roles from a hat. Half of you are going to be Avengers, and the other half are going to be ‘Hydra agents’.” He uses finger quotes when he says it. “All the ‘Hydra agents’ will be able to work together to take down the Avengers, but none of the Avengers will know who is on their side and who isn’t.”

“Just like real life,” Sam says behind him. 

“Right. The usual rules apply, last man standing wins. Any questions?” 

Pietro raises a hand. “So do the Hydra agents know who’s Hydra and who isn’t? I’m confused.”

“Each person will enter the maze separately. The entrance will take you to a different place inside the maze so no one is starting from the same spot. The Hydra agents will be placed in a room together so they can meet each other and strategize. Yes, they will know who is and isn’t Hydra. The Avengers will have to keep on their toes. Anyone could be either friend or foe. Of course, even asking won’t tell you who is who, since Hydra tends to lie. This is going to be a great test of your skills.” 

Wanda and Pietro smirk at each other. Barnes looks thoughtful next to Clint, and on his other side, Natasha looks...excited. This could either be really fun or really stressful. 

“We won’t start until Rhodes gets here, so start thinking about what kind of equipment you’ll want to take into the maze with you,” Sam says. 

“This feels very Hunger Games,” Sharon says. “The Hydra agents will get to work together, but there can only be one winner, so they’ll be taking each other out too.” Sam just smirks, and Sharon huffs. She heads over to the equipment room and Wanda and Natasha follow her. Pietro busies himself with his phone. Clint turns and jumps when he finds Barnes watching him. 

“What?” 

“Are you afraid of the maze?” Barnes asks with a smirk. Clint rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not afraid of the maze,” Clint mutters, stalking past him to go to the kitchen. There’s no telling how long they’re going to be in there, and he doesn’t want to starve. Barnes follows him. 

“Are you sure? Your face says otherwise.” He crosses his arms and leans against the sink. 

“This is just my face.” Clint shoves protein bars into his pockets and then goes looking for something warm he can eat right now. “Your face isn’t so great either.” Barnes stares at him, eyebrows raised. “Shut up. Is there any pizza in this place, do you think?” 

“Try the fridge. But Steve is a heathen who likes pineapple on his pizza.” Clint emerges from the fridge with one slice already in his mouth. “Gross,” Barnes says, making a face at him. 

“Oh, so you don’t want me to share the leftover pepperoni? Cool, more for me,” Clint says with a grin. Barnes rolls his eyes and hip-checks him out of the way to get to the box. Clint whistles as he goes to the microwave. “So, the ladies are undoubtedly scheming. You have any plans?” 

“If I know Steve, he’ll have made it so the left hand rule doesn’t work. I wouldn’t be surprised if the walls move. And that’s if there’s a way out at all. There probably isn’t until you ‘die’, since the point of the exercise is to survive as long as possible, not to escape.” Barnes taps his chin, looking thoughtful. “Best bet is to try and get some sort of vantage point, take people out from a distance, or hide for awhile and let the others knock each other out of the running so there’s less competition.” 

Clint gets his pizza out of the microwave and shuffles out of the way. “You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” he asks, partly amazed, partly suspicious. Barnes just shrugs. 

“I read a lot of books.” 

There’s a clatter outside of Rhodes arriving, and they hurry to eat their pizza while Sam gets him caught up. They rejoin the others soon enough, and Barnes gestures subtly for Clint to wipe his face. He does so, and catches a stray bit of pizza sauce. He nods his thanks, and then Steve is coming around with a hat full of little slips of paper. Clint pulls one out and reads it. 

_Hydra._

Well, this is going to be interesting. 

~~

_Avenger._

Bucky looks up from his little slip of paper at the faces around him. Some look eager; others, bored. No matter what Bucky said to Barton, he doesn’t much like the idea either. As soon as all the slips have been taken, Steve beams around at them. 

“There are packs of weapons and supplies scattered around the maze. Even I don’t know where they are. Good luck finding them. Each of us can take one weapon into the maze to start with. They are, of course, nonlethal.” Steve pulls a gun out of his holster and points it at Bucky. He pulls the trigger and a dot of red light flashes on his chest. “Pew pew. Oh no, you’re dead, Buck!” Bucky rolls his eyes as Barton snickers next to him. “We’ve decided to stagger entrance to the maze based on combat experience. Bruce, you get to go first.” 

Banner nervously steps forward, takes the laser gun Steve offers him, and then disappears into the maze. Steve and Wilson both look at their watches, but Wilson keeps his eyes on his when Steve looks up. 

“He’ll get a five minute head start and then Wanda, Pietro, and Tony can go in, followed by Sharon, then Bucky and Clint, and then Natasha, Sam, Thor, and Rhodey. I’ll go last,” Steve says. 

“You don’t have the most combat experience, Steve,” Bucky says, overriding Natasha’s protest. Steve shrugs. 

“No, but I’m running it. It gets kinda fuzzy with the last of us anyway,” he says sheepishly. Bucky rolls his eyes and rocks back on his heels to wait. Wilson gives the signal for Wanda to enter. Pietro zips in barely a minute later, and then Stark a minute after that. Barton retrieves a pair of the laser guns and tosses one to Bucky, who takes the remaining time to examine the gun and test it on Steve’s forehead. Steve rolls his eyes at him and Bucky smirks. 

Carter and Barton each enter the maze, and then it’s Bucky’s turn. He steps into an empty hallway between two narrow walls. Keeping his gun in his hands, Bucky creeps forward and rounds the corner cautiously. It’s ten minutes before he sees another person, and of course it has be to Natasha. She sees him at the same time he sees her, and she leaps forward with a smirk on her face. He tries to bring his gun around, but she’s too fast, and Bucky brings his left arm up with a groan. Why did it have to be _Natasha_?

~~

When Clint steps into the room, Wanda, Bruce, Tony, and Sharon are already there. Bruce looks like he’s been cowering against the wall recently, and the women are standing close together, speaking in low voices. 

“Hello, fellow villains,” Clint greets. “Do we have a plan yet?” 

“We were waiting to see who else would join us,” Wanda says. 

“Considering there’s twelve of us, it makes sense they’d split us down the middle, six and six,” Tony says. “And now we have five, so just waiting on one more. Any guesses as to who it is?” Clint pauses until it’s been a full minute since he entered the maze. 

“Well, it’s not Barnes. So that means so far, Barnes and Pietro are Avengers.” 

Wanda snorts. “It will be easy to catch my brother. He’s fast, but reckless. He’ll run right into a trap.” 

“What kind of trap?” Clint asks, curious. Wanda glances at Sharon, who catches her around the waist and draws a gun as Wanda swoons, wrist held to her forehead dramatically. 

“Oh, help me, Pietro!” she warbles, making Tony snicker. “He’ll whisk me away and then I can shoot him.” 

“That poses a risk for your ‘attacker’. Your brother might shoot them,” Clint points out. Sharon shrugs as she draws Wanda upright against her. 

“I doubt it,” Wanda says. “He’s not inclined to use guns that often.” 

“It’s worth the risk,” Sharon says. “We may be a team, but it’s a temporary truce, and once we leave here it’s every man for himself. If I have to take you losers out to win, I will.” 

“Really feeling the love here, Carter,” Tony says, patting his chest. Sharon rolls her eyes. 

“Anyone have an idea of the others’ tactics? I know what Barnes is planning, but the rest?” Clint asks. 

“Knowing Natasha, she’ll fight anyone she comes across, friend or not,” Sharon says. “Rhodes seems like the shoot first, ask questions later type.” 

“Hey,” Tony protests. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.” 

“If he’s gonna be one of the last to enter the maze, he’ll already be at a disadvantage,” Sharon says. “He’ll be aware of that, and know everyone else has already had time to plan and come up with a strategy.” 

A section of the wall behind Clint swings open, and he jumps forward, hand going to his gun as Steve steps through and grins at them. “So you’re the rest of Hydra,” he says, sounding eager. “Alright, let’s make a plan, team.” 

~~

Later on, Bucky isn’t quite sure how he got away from Natasha alive. All he knows is that they were in the middle of fighting and then the walls started moving. Bucky stepped back, tried to catch his balance, and suddenly Natasha was gone. He took the opportunity to run far away, fast. Now he has no idea where he is. His lip’s bloody and he has a few bruises, but he still has his gun and Natasha didn’t shoot him, so he’ll take it. 

Bucky wanders for a few minutes before he hears the sounds of another fight. He creeps closer and peeks around the corner to see who it is. Natasha and Thor. 

...He really doesn’t want to get involved in that. 

Bucky sneaks past them and hurries away, taking several random turns in hopes Natasha won’t find him again. 

An hour passes before Bucky sees more than endless walls. What looks like three supply packs are positioned at a blind corner. Bucky pulls his gun and inches closer, senses tuned for anyone who might also be approaching. He gets to the packs and peers around the corner, but no one is in sight. He keeps his gun out as he flips through the packs one handed. One has a tightly rolled blanket and a bunch of snacks. The second has a collapsible bow and a quiver of sticky dart arrows, along with a coil of rope, with half a dozen water bottles stuck in the bottom. The third has spare laser guns, some kind of camouflage clothing, and a roll of bandages. Before Bucky can make up his mind, he hears yet another fight begin up ahead. Bucky snatches the packs with the blanket and bow and slings one over his shoulder, keeping the other in his spare hand, his gun raised as he moves closer. This time it’s Barton and Natasha. Bucky hesitates. Barton and Natasha are best friends; normally they would be on the same side. But Natasha seems to be fighting anyone she comes across, so she must be Hydra. She wouldn’t be fighting Barton if he was also Hydra, would she? 

Bucky slows his breathing, takes aim, and fires. 

He misses. 

The shot goes wide over their shoulders but it makes them separate, both turning to stare at him. Bucky gulps. Just then Carter comes running at them around the far corner and they both turn to face her. Bucky darts forward, shoots at Natasha and Carter, and grabs Barton, dragging him along as he sprints away. Barton gets his feet under himself and runs with him, grabbing the pack in his hand and slinging it over his own shoulders. They run for a while until Bucky’s satisfied they’re far enough away, and then they collapse against a wall, panting for breath. 

“You got supply stuff? Cool,” Barton says after a few minutes, pawing through the pack and pulling out a small bag of trail mix, which he promptly empties into his mouth. 

“Oops, that’s...not the one I meant to give you. Here. Trade you.” Bucky pushes the other pack over to him, and Barton opens it in curiosity. 

“Aww, bow! Yes.” Barton pulls it out and shakes it out, testing the draw on the string. “You grabbed this for me?” Bucky shrugs and doesn’t look at him. 

“Hoped I’d see you,” he says, gesturing for the other pack and digging out some of the snacks for himself.

“Thanks, Barnes,” Barton says with a funny little smile. He turns to test one of the arrows down the length of the hallway. As he jogs away to retrieve it, Bucky splits the snacks and water bottles between the two packs. In case they get separated, they’ll both have food and water to last for a while. 

“Romanov’s definitely out to win,” Bucky says when Barton gets back. “She’s already fought me and Thor. I managed to get away, but I don’t know about him.” 

“Is that where you got the…?” Barton gestures at his face, and Bucky nods. “Ouch, bro. Yeah, she’s pretty vicious sometimes.”

“We should probably keep moving so she can’t find us again. I don’t know if I actually shot her, and I wouldn’t put it past her to find us again.” Barton nods and holds out a hand to help him back onto his feet. They settle the packs on their backs and set off, keeping eyes and ears open as they walk, watching each other’ backs. 

They get bored of the silence after a while and start talking quietly, discussing what movies have come out recently and which ones they’d like to see. Half an hour passes that way before Barton holds out a hand for silence and peeks around a corner. He waves Bucky over, and Bucky sneaks up to peer over his shoulder. Steve and Banner are talking together, voices so soft Bucky wonders how Barton could hear them. Barton keeps them hidden behind the wall, and a minute later Natasha appears again, charging straight at Steve. Banner, startled, swells into the Hulk and roars, smashing his fists against a wall. Bucky and Barton dart back. 

“There’s barricaded rooms scattered through the maze,” Barton says, barely whispering. “Once someone goes in, the door can’t be opened from the outside. I saw Banner use one earlier. If we can get to one, we can sit tight for a while and be safe.” 

“What’s the catch?” Bucky whispers back. 

“One’s pitch dark, one was so hot you’d start sweating immediately, things like that.” 

“Worth it. Let’s go.” Barton nods and leads them away, Bucky keeping an eye turned in the direction of the fight. Barton finds them a door after a few minutes and they slip inside. They can hear the door latch as soon as it shuts, and they each let out a sigh of relief as Bucky slides down to sit on the floor. The ability to sit without worry is so powerful, it takes Bucky a full minute to realise just how cold the room is. Barton’s nose is already turning red from it. 

“How long do you think we’ll have to stay in here?” Bucky asks, struggling not to shiver. Barton shrugs, seemingly unbothered. 

“Half an hour? Maybe more?” Barton says. The room shakes, followed by a roar. “...Maybe a lot more.” 

Bucky grabs his pack and pulls out the blanket, shaking it out to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Dude. Are you really that cold?” 

Bucky glares up at him. “In case you’ve forgotten, I was frozen repeatedly. I have a hard time staying warm.”

“Oh, shoot, yeah. I did kind of forget about that, sorry,” Barton says. Bucky ignores him and tucks the blanket around his knees. Barton comes over and sits next to him, lifting an arm. “Here, sharing body heat will help keep you warmer.” 

Bucky glares at him halfheartedly before scooting closer and wedging his shoulders under Barton’s arm. Barton just wraps it around him, resting his chin on top of Bucky’s head. The sounds of fighting still reach them, the room shaking occasionally, but Bucky gradually gets more and more lost inside his own head as the cold seeps into his limbs. He’s barely aware of Barton bundling him up closer, of crying into the other man’s shoulder, of Barton speaking over his head to someone outside, and then awareness fades away altogether. 

~~

Clint slumps in relief when Barnes finally passes out against him. He doesn’t think the guy was even aware he was screaming towards the end there. 

Tony had checked in with them once, asking through the door if they were okay and needed him to enact the safety protocols. Clint told him they were fine, that he was handling it, and to continue the game. 

By Clint’s estimation, they’re in the room for little over half an hour before the floor stops shaking, signalling the exit of the Hulk. Half an hour after that, Barnes passes out from the trauma he’s reenacting in his brain. Clint continues to hold him, cradling the warmer body between his legs, Barnes’s head tucked into his shoulder, forehead pressed to his neck. His hair smells clean and nice, like apricot. Another half an hour after that, Clint gives in to the heat of another body pressed to his and falls asleep himself. 

Clint wakes up a few hours later to Barnes stirring in his arms. The room feels much warmer suddenly when Barnes lifts his head and looks around them, blinking in sleepy confusion. _It's cute,_ Clint thinks, then pauses. _Where'd that come from?_ He shakes his head and smiles at Barnes. 

“Hey. You feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

Barnes nods. “Where are we?” 

“In a room in the training center of the Avengers facility. You remember the—?”

“The maze,” Barnes cuts him off. He shivers and pulls the blanket tight around himself. “Can we get out of here?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Clint helps him up and guides him out through the door. A couple of the walls in the area are broken, but there’s no one around. Clint’s phone vibrates in his pocket with a text, and when he pulls it out he sees that it’s timestamped about half an hour previous. 

_You two are the last ones left. Come out whenever you’re ready_ , Steve has sent. He doesn’t sound worried. Tony probably didn’t tell him they were having troubles. Clint shows the text to Barnes, who grunts and sits down right where he’s at. Clint goes back into the room for the packs and presses water and a protein bar into Barnes’s hands. Barnes frowns at him, but Clint’s too busy tearing into his own bar. Barnes takes the hint, and they eat in silence until the water bottle’s empty and half the snacks have been demolished. Barnes is looking better by then, some color back in his cheeks. 

“Ready to get out of here?” Clint asks. 

“Aren’t we supposed to shoot each other?” Barnes grunts. Clint shrugs. 

“I’m pretty sure the game is over now. I’m not gonna shoot you.” It occurs to him that Barnes doesn’t know he’s been Hydra this whole time; oh well. It doesn’t seem so important now. 

The maze is quiet and still as they make their way through it, the hallways becoming a straightforward path. They only have to take a couple turns, and in a few minutes they’re back at the entrance. Barnes visibly braces himself before Clint opens the door. The entire team is there waiting for them, sitting around, leaning into each other in pairs and groups, and watching the door. Steve jolts to his feet as soon as they walk out. 

“Bucky? Are you okay?” he asks in concern. Barnes is still clutching the blanket around his shoulders and looks unwilling to part with it. Clint moves closer and rubs his back. 

“We hung out in one of the safe rooms, but it was a cold one,” Clint explains. 

Steve sweeps Bucky into a tight hug, and Clint moves over to where Natasha is standing between Wanda and Sharon, watching him. “I heard you were beating the crap out of people,” he says, leaning down to hug her. 

“I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for that meddling Hulk,” she says back. Clint snickers into her shoulder. 

“I vote we go have food,” Pietro says, interrupting. “Some of us have been sitting around bored for hours.” Wanda elbows him and he darts to the other side of the room. 

“Food’s a good idea,” Clint agrees. 

“I’ll call for something,” Tony says. He and Rhodey start for the door, supporting a tired Bruce between them. 

“Wait, who won?” Sharon asks. Everyone stops to look at Clint and Barnes. 

“I believe it’s a tie,” Steve says after a moment, scratching his head. 

“Nah, Barnes won. He was so heroic, rescuing me from Nat, he converted me from the dark side.” Clint smiles at him, and Barnes starts to smile back before frowning. 

“Wait, you were Hydra?” he asks, sounding betrayed. He glares at Natasha, who barks out a laugh and leads the way out of the room. Clint chuckles and follows her. “Who was Hydra?! Steven!” Barnes demands behind him. 

(Over the food Clint invites Barnes to his apartment for movies and pizza. Barnes accepts, with one condition. “Call me Bucky.”)


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky shows up at Clint’s apartment in Bed-Stuy the next night with a backpack over his shoulder. A few guys in tracksuits loitering across the street give Bucky the stinkeye. He sends a scowl back at them and they scatter. The building reminds him of Clint, oddly. It’s rough around the edges, kinda scruffy, but not too shabby. It could do with a good cleaning, some metal polish, and new carpeting, but it feels comfortable, like an old worn t-shirt. Clint’s up on the fourth floor, and Bucky takes the stairs easily. A brass number 4 hangs on the door, slightly crooked, and Bucky knocks below it. A crash and some muffled swearing greets him before Clint yanks the door open, fumbling with his left hearing aid. 

“Hi, hey, Bucky, come on in,” he says, stepping back. Bucky sweeps his gaze up and down Clint, taking note of his clothes—scuffed up jeans and a rumpled black shirt with a hole in the armpit, his feet bare—before scanning the apartment. It’s kind of bare, emptier than Bucky expected. There’s a couch and a coffee table in front of an entertainment center, a dog bed over underneath the windows. In the kitchen, dog bowls sit near the pantry, the counter littered with empty plates and mugs surrounding the coffee maker. On the island, there’s an unstrung bow and a quiver of arrows spilled everywhere. What appears to be several pairs of socks and a handful of t-shirts are scattered around the apartment. A small pile of dog toys sits next to the couch, and yet he sees no actual dog. The tv’s on, showing a blue loading screen, with a stack of dvds on the floor in front of it. “Um, I couldn’t decide what to watch, so why don’t you go look at them and I’ll order pizza? What do you want?” 

Bucky looks back at him to see Clint already holding the phone to his ear. He can hear it ringing from where he stands. “A supreme, hold the mushrooms. And, hmm, a meat lovers, extra olives, and anchovies.” Clint makes a horrified face at him. 

“Anchovies, Bucky? That’s disgusting. Yes hello, I would like to hear your specials. ...Uh huh. Ooh, buffalo chicken pizza? Yes?” Clint looks at him and Bucky nods. “Yes we’ll have one of those, large, and a large meat lovers with extra olives and anchovies on the side. I don’t know, whatever crust is thickest. You got the kind with cheese in the crust? Do that with the buffalo chicken. And a supreme, no mushrooms.” Clint looks at Bucky again and mouths _Anything else?_

_What do you have to drink here?_ Bucky signs to him. 

_Coffee? Water? Maybe some milk, I’m not sure._

_Get some soda. Root beer and Sprite._

Clint rolls his eyes and orders the soda as well, checking with Bucky once more before he gives his name and hangs up. “You didn’t give them your address,” Bucky says. 

“They have it saved in their system,” Clint says. “I, uh, order there a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You can drop your bag by the couch if you want.” Bucky does so, making sure it’s clear of the dog toys, and then squats to peer at the movie cases. He doesn’t recognize most of them, but a few he’s seen and some are on Steve’s List. He picks them up and starts reading the back, flipping through until he finds one that sounds suitable. 

“How about, uh, _Raiders of the Lost Ark_?” he says, holding the case up. 

“Are you sure? They fight Nazis in that one, I think.” Clint is shuffling around behind him. Bucky frowns and puts it back. 

“Lilo and Stitch?” he asks after another minute. 

“Ooh, that’s a good one. It’s kind of a kid’s movie but it’s about finding family in unexpected places, it’s great.” 

Bucky flips it over to read the back. “...She adopts a blue koala from space.” 

“He talks, too,” Clint chirps. Bucky turns to look at him and stops, staring at the couch and the mountain of blankets that has appeared on it. 

“What’s with the…” he trails off and waves at it. 

“I just don’t want you to get cold,” Clint says sheepishly. 

“Well...thanks,” Bucky says. He stands and holds out the case and Clint busies himself starting up the movie. Bucky can see the outline of some kind of vest under Clint’s shirt. It looks like it’s digging into his shoulders and ribs. “What’s that for?”

Clint glances back at him over his shoulder. “What?” 

“That vest or whatever you’ve got on under your shirt.” Bucky instantly knows he’s pushed a boundary from the way Clint goes tense. “It just looks kinda tight. You don’t have to wear it around me if it’s uncomfortable, you can take it off. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

“Maybe later,” Clint mutters, turning back to the tv after a moment. Bucky goes to poke around the kitchen, finding plates, mugs, and a roll of paper towels and setting them on the coffee table. Then he settles himself on the couch to wait as the ads start playing on the tv. Clint makes sure his wallet is out before dropping on the other end of the couch. He seems nervous, so Bucky casts around for a soft subject. 

“How long have you lived here?” he asks. 

“Uh, not long? Just since I bought the building.” 

“You own the building?” Bucky asks, incredulous. 

“Yeah? I mean, I haven’t had it long, but I had a lot of SHIELD pay stored up, and the previous owner was pretty shitty and didn’t take care of his tenants, so I bought it from him. I’m also the superintendent, and the janitor, and fixer of broken things. Just, kind of do everything to maintain the place,” Clint says. He practically springs off the couch when the doorbell rings. “Pizza’s here!” He moves to the door in a way Bucky can only describe as scurrying, so he decides to let the subject drop once Clint gets back. They each take a couple slices on plates and pour soda into mugs before Clint starts the movie. 

The Hawaiian setting of the movie keeps him warm at first, but the building tensions between the sisters has him reaching for a blanket at the hour mark, long after his plate’s been set aside. Blindly reaching out results in him pawing at Clint’s arm, and Clint hands over a blanket before he can even apologize. He mumbles his thanks instead and burrows into it, keeping his face clear so he can still watch. He’s dimly aware of Clint wrapping up in his own blanket. By the end of the movie he and Clint are pressed shoulder to shoulder, and he’s not sure which of them moved to close the gap. His eyes feel a little wet, and when Clint gets up to change out the movie, Bucky takes the empty soda mugs and puts them in the kitchen sink. While he’s poking around looking for some kind of soothing warm drink he can make, Clint shuffles into his bedroom and then back out again. He’s got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, but Bucky has the sense he’s removed his vest. Clint’s traded his pants for purple flannel with targets on it. 

“Hey, uh, you brought something to sleep in, right?” Clint asks. Bucky nods. “Why don’t you go change, and I’ll make us some hot chocolate?” 

“Alright, thanks.” Bucky smiles at him and grabs his bag, heading into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. He comes out in a form of SHIELD standard issue pajamas: gray sweatpants and a black shirt, both featuring the SHIELD eagle. Clint already has two new mugs out on the counter, full of hot chocolate. 

“I thought we could watch Finding Nemo next; it’s a bit similar to Lilo and Stitch,” Clint says, holding out a mug with a Black Widow hourglass on it. Clint’s mug reads ‘Hulk smash!’ in capital purple letters. He keeps the blanket close around his chest with his other hand, waiting for Bucky to take the mug before picking up his own and going back to the couch. 

“Whatever you want,” Bucky says, following and curling up on the couch with the mug. This time there’s no space between them, and Bucky relishes in the warmth, sipping from his mug as Clint starts the movie about some fish. He sets it aside when it’s empty and leans back against Clint’s shoulder after he does the same. Sometime between the boat and the sharks, he falls asleep sitting up. 

~~

Bucky wakes up in the morning lying on his back on the couch, Clint sprawled on top of him and snoring gently. Clint is soft, warm, and comfortable on top of him, but his hair is tickling Bucky’s cheek so he lifts his hand to try and brush it away. Clint’s hair is messy and soft, darker at the roots like he dyes it, and Bucky finds himself running his fingers through it. Clint makes a soft noise and nuzzles his shoulder, sighing and settling. The blankets have all fallen to the floor sometime during the night, so Bucky grabs one and drags it up over Clint’s shoulders so he won’t be cold. 

Half an hour later, Clint starts to stir, and Bucky drops his hand from his hair. Clint picks his head up and looks around blearily, blinking in confusion. He props himself up with a forearm on Bucky’s chest, rubs his eyes, and then, with a yelp, goes toppling to the floor. Bucky quickly props himself up on his elbow. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice full of morning gravel. Clint looks up at him with wide eyes and red cheeks, clutching the blanket around his shoulders. 

“Fine! I’m, uh, just fine! Was I sleeping on top of you the whole night?” 

Bucky shrugs. “Seems like it. I didn’t mind, though.” 

“Oh, uh, okay!” Clint casts around and grabs his hearing aids from off the table before jerking to his feet. “Uh, bathroom!” he says, darting away. 

Bucky takes a moment to sit up fully, trying to adjust from warm sleepy stillness to Clint’s sudden frantic energy and the lack of additional body heat. Clint emerges about ten minutes later in a different set of clothes and without the blanket. His cheeks are still pink and his hair is just as messy as before. Bucky still wants to run his fingers through it. 

“Mind if I borrow your shower?” Bucky asks, pushing to his feet and grabbing his bag. 

“Uh, sure? I can get you a towel if you want?” Clint says. Bucky nods and gives him a smile. 

“That’d be great, thanks.” He shuts himself in the bathroom before he can think any more about how cute Clint is.

~~

Clint takes a deep breath once the door is shut, running his hands through his hair again. He feels more comfortable now that he’s got his binder back on and he’ll have a few minutes to compose himself. First thing’s first, he fetches a clean towel for Bucky and knocks on the door, handing it through when the door opens just wide enough for his arm. 

“Thanks,” Bucky says again. Through the door, Clint can see the mirror, and in it, a hint of miles of bare skin.

“No problem!” he squeaks, nearly shutting the door on his hand in his haste to close it. He rubs his hands over his face and walks away from the bathroom, aiming for the kitchen. “Coffee. I need coffee,” he mutters to himself. He starts the coffee maker and starts cleaning up around the place. Halfway through picking up the armful of blankets he brought out to the couch last night, the door bursts open and startles him into dropping them. 

“Clint, I’m bringing your dog back!” Kate hollers. 

“Aw, Katie, no,” Clint whines. Lucky bounds toward him with a happy bark, and Clint crouches down to greet him properly. When he looks up again, Kate is looking around suspiciously at the pile of blankets, the two mugs and pizza remnants on the coffee table, and the bathroom where they can hear the shower running. Clint can hear Bucky’s voice rumbling low as he sings to himself in the shower, but he can’t make out the song. 

“Clint, who’s in your bathroom?” Kate asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s just a friend, I swear,” he says, holding his hands up. A second later he has to snatch the pizza boxes off the table before Lucky can grab them. He carries them into the kitchen, trying to figure out how best to combine them so he can get rid of a box. 

“Just a friend, huh? How quickly you said that tells me you want it to be more than just a friend,” Kate says, crossing her arms. 

“I haven’t even had my coffee yet, leave me alone,” he whines. The coffee maker beeps just then, and he abandons the pizza to grab a mug. He can practically hear Kate roll her eyes behind him. 

“Are you going to provide breakfast for your just-a-friend?” she asks. 

“...Pizza?” 

“Clint, if you want your friend to be more than a friend, you have to provide a better breakfast than the cold leftover pizza you had for dinner last night.” Oh no, she’s started tapping her foot. Clint goes through his cupboards with one hand, still holding his coffee in the other. 

“I can make pancakes?” 

“Can you?” 

“I can make pancakes,” he corrects. “What goes with pancakes?” Kate sighs. 

“Just make your pancakes, loverboy, I’ll see what else you have,” she says, opening the fridge. Clint leans around her to grab the milk and starts mixing the batter. The water in the bathroom shuts off, and a few minutes later Bucky steps out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. Lucky goes over to meet him, tail wagging, and, in typical dog fashion, shoves his nose right into Bucky’s crotch. 

“Whoa, hey, buddy,” Bucky says, taking a step back before scratching around Lucky’s ears. “This is your dog?” 

“Uh, yeah? His name is Lucky,” Clint calls back. 

“You named your one-eyed dog Lucky?” 

“Yeah, cuz he’s lucky he only lost the one eye. I was gonna name him Pizza Dog, but Kate didn’t like it.” 

“Who’s Kate?” Bucky takes the towel off his head and goes still. Kate wipes her hands and goes over with a smile. 

“Hi! I’m Kate Bishop, the younger and better-looking Hawkeye,” she says, extending a hand to shake. 

“Bucky Barnes,” he says slowly, shaking her hand. 

“The Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes? Captain America’s best friend?” she asks. 

“Yeah?” Bucky says. Kate turns to look at Clint, who hunches his shoulders and turns back to the stove. 

“So hey, uh, are pancakes okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah, pancakes are fine. You got any chocolate chips to go with them?” Bucky replies. 

Clint scoffs. “Duh, I have chocolate chips for pancakes. What do I look like?” 

“You look like someone made a nest in your hair,” Bucky snickers. 

“Hey, don’t insult the hair, it’s not easy to get the just-rolled-out-of-bed look.” 

“Unless you literally just rolled out of bed?” Bucky comes up to get his own cup of coffee, smirking at him, and just like that they’re back to the easy camaraderie of the night before, and Clint feels himself relaxing. Even the looks Kate shoots him can’t spoil his good mood now.

~~

A few weeks later, Clint walks out of the debriefing room at SHIELD full of emotions he can’t—doesn’t want to—name. His last mission was a disaster, bad intel leading to him being in the wrong place at the wrong time, getting caught out, and the whole mess ending in civilian death. No matter what anyone says, he still feels like that death is his fault. 

He goes to the shooting range, finds his practice arrows, and proceeds to turn a series of targets into pincushions. Sometime in the middle, he breaks out of the haze of draw-release-breathe enough to recognize that Bucky is in the lane next to his. Before he knows it, two hours have passed, and he stumbles as he tries to collect his arrows, muscles quivering with fatigue. Bucky catches him before he can fall, the remnants of several paper targets scattered around their feet. Bucky says something that he just can’t grasp and hauls him out of the range, carrying at least half his body weight. 

Clint’s vaguely aware of Bucky pressing a glass of water into his hand, of being helped to drink it, but he’s so exhausted that everything after that is a blur. 

He comes aware slowly, what feels like the next morning, in a narrow bed that he recognizes as one of SHIELD’s temporary housing cots. The main source of light is coming from the attached bathroom, but there’s another source, and when he turns his head to find it, he sees two men standing in the open doorway, facing each other and talking. Clint’s hearing aids are on the bedside table, so he grabs them and puts them in. 

“—Yeah I’m just gonna stay here and keep him company,” Bucky murmurs. 

“Alright. I’ll see you later?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, see ya, Steve.” Bucky waves him off and then closes the door, turning to come check on Clint. “Hey. You awake?” 

“Yeah,” Clint groans, pushing himself up. His hand flies to his chest in a sudden panic. 

“I didn’t take your vest off, but I loosened the velcro on the side,” Bucky says calmly. “It didn’t seem like it would be comfortable to sleep in, tight like it was.” 

“Thanks,” Clint mutters. Bucky nods and then gestures at the bathroom, and Clint gratefully takes the opportunity to flee and make himself presentable. There’s pillow creases on his face, but nothing can be done about that or the bags under his eyes. He uses the facilities, splashes water on his face, and straightens his clothes. While he’s doing that, he notices that this bathroom looks a bit more...lived in than most of the private bathrooms at SHIELD. Stepping out of the bathroom confirms his thoughts. Bucky has turned on the lights, illuminating not only the open closet full of clothes, the shoes half kicked under the bed, but also the picture frame and handful of trinkets on the bedside table. 

“Do you...live here?” he asks, confused. Bucky looks up at him from trying to tug the sheets back into place from where they’ve been pulled up. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know this is temporary housing, right? Emphasis on the temporary,” Clint says. Bucky sighs and sits on the bed. 

“Yeah, I know. I was supposed to move in with Steve, but then Sam moved in, and Natasha’s there all the time, and...I kind of felt like a third wheel? Like I was intruding on something private?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m pretty sure Steve is dating either Sam or Natasha. Or maybe they’re dating each other. Or all three of them are dating. Either way, someone in that apartment is getting some, and it just felt weird to be there.” 

“Oh.” Clint sits on the bed next to him in thoughtful silence for a minute. “Natasha didn’t tell me she was seeing anyone.” 

“Steve hasn’t said anything either, but he’s not good at lying to me. His face goes all pink and he can’t meet my eyes, so I know something’s going on. I’d rather be here, even though it’s tiny, than be interrupting all of _that_.” 

“Makes sense,” Clint agrees. Bucky turns to look at him and suddenly Clint can’t meet his gaze, feeling stripped down by the intensity in those eyes. 

“You wanna talk about what happened last night?” he asks. 

“Uh, no, not really.” 

“Clint.” Bucky’s voice is soft but he can still hear the power in it. Clint sighs and runs his hand through his hair. 

“A civilian died on my mission yesterday. Crappy intel, wrong place wrong time, and an innocent person dies. Everyone keeps telling me that it’s not my fault, and I don’t need you to say it too.” 

“I wasn’t going to. Clint, you think I don’t know what it’s like to have a guilty conscience?” Bucky ducks his head to meet Clint’s eyes, raising his eyebrows. “I remember everything that I did under Hydra’s control. Every person I killed, all the...civilian casualties, collateral damage, the families of this or that politician or lawmaker than needed to be sent a message. The blood on my hands fills my nightmares.” He looks down at his mismatched hands, opening and closing them. He looks back up at Clint. “I know what it’s like.” 

Clint finds that his eyes are wet, and he sniffs and wipes at them with the back of his hand. 

“Come here,” Bucky says, getting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in. Clint fists his hands in the back of Bucky’s shirt, hiding his face in his shoulder and finally letting it all out. Bucky just holds him and rocks him, being the steady presence that he needs. When Clint pulls away, Bucky cups his cheek in one hand and kisses his forehead before passing him a box of tissues to wipe his face. 

“I’m always here to talk if you need it.” 

“Thanks,” Clint says. He leans in and gives Bucky another hug. “Sorry for crying all over you. And for taking your bed from you.” 

“Oh, you didn’t. You wouldn’t let go of me last night, so we shared.” 

“But...it’s so tiny.” 

“You’re really good at cuddling,” Bucky says, just enough of a tease in his voice to make Clint laugh. Bucky smiles at him. “Come on, let’s go get some food. If we’re lucky we might be able to have pie for breakfast.” 

“Pie isn’t a breakfast food.” 

“Anything’s a breakfast food if you eat it for breakfast.” 

Clint makes a sound of outrage. “I knew Kate was lying about pizza not being for breakfast!” 

Bucky laughs, and it’s so full and loud that Clint can’t help joining in. Even if he and Bucky never do become something more, it's worth it to have this friendship. 


	3. Chapter 3

Sometime in the next few weeks, Bucky and Clint trade phone numbers. They start texting, _a lot_ , so much that their respective best friends take notice and start making comments. Neither of them wants to stop though; they like it too much to let their friends bother them about it. The best part is the late night phone calls when neither of them can sleep. Nothing soothes the nightmares like someone else’s voice in their ears. A few times Bucky even leaves his SHIELD quarters to come over to Clint’s apartment and crawl into bed with him. It’s not something they talk about, and after the first couple mornings, they learn how to drop the awkwardness of sharing space. 

Just when Clint is thinking about telling Bucky the truth about his “vest”, Bucky comes over one afternoon with an overnight bag and a favor to ask. 

“Can you do my makeup?” he asks. Clint pauses a minute to make sure he heard right and then looks at Bucky. 

“You what?” he asks. 

Bucky takes a breath. “I want you to do my makeup for me. Please?” 

“Why?” 

“You did it really nice on that mission we went on a couple months ago, and I’ve got a date tonight and I want to look nice but sometimes my hands shake—” Bucky keeps talking, but Clint doesn’t hear it. He feels like the floor has dropped out from under him. A few minutes pass before he registers the silence and looks up to see Bucky staring hopefully at him. 

“Uh, sure,” he says, clearing his throat. “Just go...sit on the bathroom counter, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

“Thanks! I owe you one,” Bucky says, walking away. 

Clint uses his minute to chug the rest of his coffee and run his hands over his face. He shouldn’t be this affected by the thought of his friend going on a date. He’s not sure he even has makeup in the apartment. Maybe Bucky brought his own? He heads to the bathroom to check and yes, Bucky’s cleared off the counter and set out some pallets and brushes. They look familiar. Actually, they look like the same ones used for the mission a few months ago. Clint had thought SHIELD had provided those, but maybe not. 

“I don’t want to go too heavy, and I don’t want the bold red and the dark eyeshadow like last time, but I haven’t decided what color I want. Maybe you can pick for me?” Bucky gestures to a row of lipstick tubes. One of them, the bold red of last time, is set a little apart from the others. Clint forces a smile. 

“Sure, I’ll do you up nice.” Clint gets Bucky talking about his date while he works so he won’t have to talk himself except for ‘tilt your head’ and ‘close your eyes’. 

The date is one that Natasha set up after pestering Bucky for a few weeks. It’s at Carrie’s with supposedly the best burgers in the borough, near Prospect Park so they can take a walk after if they want. He’s going with Aiden from Information Gathering, who Bucky’s met a few times and seemed nice enough, even if he does have a tenuous grasp on personal space and goes a little overboard with the flirting. Clint feels just a little like his heart is breaking as he listens to Bucky talk. 

“Alright, I’m done,” Clint says, interrupting Bucky telling him about how he and his date decided what to wear together so they wouldn’t either match or clash horribly. Bucky twists to look in the mirror and beams, and Clint’s breath catches in his throat. 

“It looks great! Thanks, Clint!” Bucky hops off the counter and hugs him, and Clint carefully pats his back. “Do you mind if I change here? It’s getting close to time.” 

“Uh, sure, go ahead,” Clint manages. He slips out of the bathroom before he can say anything else, and Bucky closes the door behind him. Bucky comes out wearing dark skinny jeans and a loose shirt that makes his eyes shine. Between the shirt and the lipstick that’s emphasising his smile, he looks radiant. 

“Well? What do you think? How do I look?” Bucky asks, holding out his arms to the sides. 

Clint fumbles out a sentence, something vaguely complimentary. Bucky thanks him, smiling shyly, and asks if it’s okay to leave his bag there. Clint says yes, of course — what else could he say? Bucky thanks him again, heads out for his date, and Clint makes his way to the couch, sitting down heavily and putting his head in his hands. The way he feels about Bucky is different than he ever expected. Bigger, so it feels like he can’t contain it inside himself. 

He tries to find something to occupy himself with and ends up turning on some mindless tv, staring at it until a knock on the door an hour and a half later. He opens the door to find Bucky standing there, completely drenched and looking absolutely miserable. 

“Bucky?” Clint says in surprise.

“Clint,” Bucky says back, sounding just a little broken. Clint reaches out to pull him into the apartment, kicking the door shut. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. Bucky just shakes his head and wordlessly drops his head onto Clint’s shoulder. Clint doesn’t care that the water on Bucky is soaking into his clothes, hugging him tight and slowly moving them to the couch. It can be dried later. 

Clint half-falls onto the couch since Bucky won’t let him go, and Bucky promptly wraps himself around him. “You want to talk about it?” Clint asks. Bucky shakes his head again. “You wanna go to bed?” he asks next. Bucky pauses before nodding. Clint turns off the tv and a few lights as they shuffle through to the bedroom, where they reluctantly part. Clint ushers Bucky towards the bathroom. “Go clean up, okay? I’ll bring you some pajamas.” Once the door is shut, Clint lets out a breath and runs his hand through his hair. It’s hard to see his friend so miserable. 

He hears the shower start up, so Clint changes into his own pajamas to give Bucky a minute and then slips inside and leaves a set of pajamas on the counter. They’re long-sleeved Hawkeye pajamas that Clint had gotten for Bucky as a joke a while ago, so he could wear Clint’s pajamas without worrying about them falling off his tiny hips. Bucky had actually liked them though, and gotten Clint his own set of Winter Soldier pajamas to match. With that done, Clint pulls himself together and cleans up the room a bit. 

When Bucky comes out, he doesn’t look much happier for being dry and warm, plucking at the pajamas and shuffling directly to the bed. He pauses there, and Clint watches him for a minute before getting into bed himself and extending a hand. Bucky takes it and crawls into bed. He cuddles right up and rests his head on Clint’s chest, a reversal of their usual position. Clint freezes in surprise and Bucky goes tense, but Clint makes himself relax before Bucky can pull away, wrapping his arms around him. 

“Better than sleeping in your bed of bricks at SHIELD, right?” Clint asks softly. Bucky grunts into his chest. 

“It’s not made of bricks, Clint.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, reaching up to brush his fingers through Bucky’s hair. Bucky sighs and settles more fully on top of him. “Sleep, Buck. Everything will look better in the morning.” 

Bucky grumbles a little and then nuzzles him. “G’night Clint.” 

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

~

In the morning they’re still in roughly the same position. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Clint asks once he’s sure Bucky’s awake. He’s been lying there for half an hour and had his hearing aids back in for half that. 

“Not really,” Bucky grumbles before sighing. He slides off Clint and flops onto his back, and Clint kind of misses both the warmth and the weight of him. “My date decided to make it a double date without telling me. With his brother and sister-in-law. They...weren’t so cool with the makeup.”

Clint doesn’t have to ask. “Fuckers.” 

Bucky huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. They didn’t have a very good opinion about much of anything. And then uh...there were little candles on the table, and I accidentally caught my sleeve on one. But I didn’t notice at first because it was the left arm, so the waitress dumped a glass of water on me to put it out. Aiden wouldn’t stop talking about himself the whole time, and his rivalry with his coworker Tessa. He barely even stopped when I caught fire. His brother had his phone in his hand the whole time, and he would just toss out random comments, like his opinion on the state of the weather in Missouri, or whatever. His sister-in-law was so stuck up, she had her meal sent back to the kitchen three times.” 

“Missouri? Why the fuck is he concerned about weather in Missouri?”

“Don’t ask me.” Bucky sighs. “Against my better judgement, I decided to order dessert even though it was going horribly, and it turns out Aiden is allergic to coconut. So they rushed him out and left me with the whole bill.” 

“Rude.” 

“Yeah. To top it all off, on the way home a guy tried to mug me, but I spent all my cash on the bill and the waitress’s tip, so all he got from me was a couple bruises. And then, of course, since the night hadn’t gone terribly enough already, it started raining buckets. So I came here instead of going home because I didn’t want anyone else to see me.” 

“Aww, Bucky, come here.” Clint reaches over and tugs him into a hug, and Bucky heaves out a breath that’s half a sob into his shoulder. 

“Natasha keeps setting me up on all these dates and I just keep hoping one of them is gonna work out, but they never do. I just don’t want to be lonely anymore,” Bucky says in a small voice. Clint can’t do anything but squeeze him tighter. 

It isn’t until later, after they’ve had breakfast and Clint’s gone to take a shower, that he realizes he hasn’t been wearing his binder all morning and never once felt uncomfortable around Bucky without it. 

~~

Something changes between them after that. When it’s just Bucky around, Clint stops keeping his binder on beyond the point he knows he should take it off for his own sake, and Bucky starts wearing makeup and experimenting with his outfit more freely. Clint is sure he’s falling a little bit more in love every day. 

Which is why it sucks when Clint gets called out with most of the team and Bucky gets left behind. 

It’s a week long mission, out in southern Texas, and they end up tired and dirty every day from various small explosions but at least they get to stay in a hotel. Most days Clint’s so tired, he barely has time for a shower before he falls asleep. Someone other than Clint has been in charge of arranging the rooms, so Clint gets a whole room to himself, even when normally he would share with Natasha. He’s pretty sure she’s bunking down with either Sam or Steve, and he won’t admit it out loud, but he’s lonely. He and Bucky share a bed, or a couch, or a sunny spot on the floor, six days out of seven. He isn’t used to being so alone anymore. 

Even when the mission’s over, Steve makes them stay and help with the cleanup. By the third day Clint feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin, he’s so anxious. He knows Bucky has a mission coming up soon and deep down he just _knows_ he won’t get back before Bucky leaves. And then, on the fifth day of cleanup, Clint returns to his hotel room and finds Bucky waiting for him. He’s so relieved he’s pretty sure he melts into Bucky’s arms. Bucky takes Clint’s weight easily and just holds him for several minutes. 

“It’s so nice to see you,” Clint mumbles. 

“I missed you too, Clint,” Bucky says. He steers Clint toward the bathroom after another minute. “Go shower and then come back to bed.” 

Clint reluctantly closes the bathroom door between them and finds a change of clothes and a fresh towel already set out for him. At this point, he’s convinced this man is perfect.

~

Bucky will never admit it, but his SHIELD bunk seems even colder and smaller without the chance that Clint might randomly stop by when he comes in to use the range. After the first night, Bucky uses his key to Clint’s apartment and sleeps in his bed. It smells like him, and it makes Bucky’s heart swell if he can ignore the fact that Clint himself isn’t there. Kate has taken Lucky on another adventure so it’s only him rattling around Clint’s apartment. He attends a rooftop barbecue with the neighbors, and even goes to fix one lady’s sink. 

He gets an assignment for a mission, and the briefing is on the sixth day of Clint’s mission. He sends off a text, hoping that Clint will see it before he comes home. When Clint doesn’t reply, Bucky calls Steve, who tells him that they’re doing cleanup and won’t be home for maybe another week. Bucky looks at the calendar, where he’s circled the day he’s supposed to leave, and his heart sinks. Clint won’t be back by then. 

Another few days pass, and Bucky’s all ready for his mission, gear packed and everything. All he’s doing is sitting around waiting to ship out and missing Clint. After another lonely night spent in Clint’s bed, Bucky goes to SHIELD and asks Maria for a favor. That evening he’s sitting in Clint’s hotel room waiting when Clint comes in. Bucky isn’t sure which of them moves first, just that suddenly he’s holding Clint and doesn’t want to let go. He can smell the dirt and sweat on him, however, and ushers Clint into the shower before getting into his own Hawkeye pajamas. He can’t take them on his mission, but they can go back home in Clint’s bags once they part. 

Clint comes out of the bathroom yawning and with his hair still dripping. He’s taken his hearing aids out, so Bucky wordlessly guides him to sit on the edge of the bed and Bucky uses the towel to rub his hair dry. Clint sends him a sleepy smile and Bucky feels his breath catch in his throat. He sends a smile back and prods Clint up the bed and under the blankets. Bucky makes sure the door is locked and flicks the lights off before slipping into bed with him. It’s the best night of sleep he’s had in almost two weeks. 

Bucky feels no shame about going with Clint to team breakfast in the morning. He gets a little thrill from the surprise on everyone’s faces, even Natasha’s. 

“Bucky? What are you doing here?” Steve asks. 

“I came to check on my friends,” Bucky says, sitting close enough to Clint that he has to throw an arm around him. Natasha narrows her eyes. “I’m shipping out tomorrow and I won’t be back for a while, figured I’d come see you all before I go.” 

“Oh, well, it’s nice to see you, Buck,” Steve says, looking the slightest bit guilty. Bucky sends a knowing smile his way and serves himself some breakfast from the dishes Clint passes to him. 

Bucky can’t join them on their mission, of course, but he wrangles a housekeeping cart from the hotel and cleans his teammates’ rooms, knowing they wouldn’t let regular housekeeping in while they have sensitive information and tech in their rooms. Some of them are in desperate need of new sheets and towels. Bucky’s glad of the gloves that came with the cart. 

By the time his teammates return, he’s almost as tired as they are. He and Clint fall back into bed that night easily. 

In the morning, Bucky hugs Clint tight for several minutes, face pressed into his shoulder. Bucky goes to his mission that afternoon, and Clint and the others go home that night. Bucky gave Clint some of the basic details, and they both know they’re going to miss each other. They’re reluctant to part, but eventually Steve comes to get Clint. Bucky gives him one more squeeze before letting go. After they’re gone, Bucky leaves his Hawkeye pajamas folded on the bed where Clint can’t possibly miss them, and goes to meet his ride. 

~~

Bucky’s gone on his mission for a month. Whereas Clint had his phone and just didn’t have time to answer, he could at least see Bucky’s texts. But Bucky’s undercover and can’t even take his phone with him; it’s most likely sitting in his locker at SHIELD. That doesn’t stop Clint from texting him, of course, but it’s not quite as much fun when he can’t expect a reply. Kate comes back and brings Lucky, but even friend-and-dog cuddles don’t make up for the lack of Bucky cuddles. 

Clint does a lot of moping around his apartment. 

Natasha must find out somehow because she shows up more often than she has been lately, forcing him to shower and eat something other than takeout, dragging him to the range or out shopping or to the park to meet other dogs. Everything seems a little less fun when he can’t tell Bucky about it when he gets home. 

Clint’s been so preoccupied with missing Bucky, he completely forgets the day that Bucky’s coming home. Natasha shows up, drags him out of bed, forces him to shower and put on nice clothes, feeds him breakfast, and then takes him outside and shoves him in a Stark car. Clint slumps in the seat and doesn’t bother to ask where they’re going because Natasha won’t tell him anyway. He figures they’re going to the range when they pull up at SHIELD, so he’s confused when she leads him to the debriefing wing. He’s about to ask what they’re doing there when a door opens ahead of them and Bucky steps out. Clint’s breath freezes in his lungs. 

Bucky looks exhausted. He’s wearing tac gear in the wrong size, shirt too tight and pants too long. It’s dirty and scuffed. His hair’s been trimmed since Clint last saw him and he’s got a scruffy beard masking the lower half of his face. There’s a streak of what might be motor oil on his left cheekbone and bags under his eyes so large he’d probably have to check them at the airport. He looks like the last time he slept was in a wet ditch a week ago, and he needs a good long shower. 

He’s the best thing Clint’s ever seen. 

Bucky grins when he sees Clint and it practically lights up the building. Natasha gives Clint a shove but he’s already moving, running down the hallway. Bucky meets him halfway and they sort of slam together when they meet, clinging to each other to stay upright. Bucky squeezes him so tight that Clint can’t breathe and he thinks his ribs might be bruised, but he couldn’t care less because _Bucky’s back_. He smells like a dumpster and gasoline and Clint thinks he might cry. 

He’s not sure how long they’ve stood in the hallway holding onto each other, but Maria’s cleared her throat pointedly at least three times before they let go. Even then they don’t go far; Bucky grabs Clint’s hand in his when he turns to face Maria. Clint’s too busy staring at Bucky to notice what Maria says, and then she walks away and Bucky turns back to him with that grin and his knees feel weak. 

“Come on, boys,” Natasha says, rolling her eyes. “A shower is in order for you, Barnes, and then I’ll give you both a ride back to Clint’s place.” She turns and walks away without waiting for a response from either of them, and Clint and Bucky continue to hold hands on the way back to Bucky’s bunk. He takes a quick shower and changes into some of his own clothes, and then Natasha takes them back to Clint’s building. 

A pizza delivery boy arrives at Clint’s apartment door at the same time they do. Natasha pushes the pizzas into Bucky’s arms, pays the delivery boy, and then shoves Bucky and Clint into the apartment. 

“I’m not coming back until you’ve turned your apartment into less of a health hazard, Clint,” Natasha says, somehow making it into a threat. Then she closes the door and leaves them alone. 

Clint rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as Bucky looks around at the mess that has accumulated in the apartment in the month that he’s been gone. He goes to clean off the couch while Bucky looks for some clean dishes in the kitchen. They cuddle up on the couch and watch tv while they eat pizza, and then Bucky helps him change the sheets on the bed and they crawl in together. They don’t leave the bed for several hours. 

Clint wakes up a while later to find that he and Bucky managed to fall asleep still wearing all their clothes, including their jeans. They’re all tangled up together, which is nice, but in their day clothes it isn’t comfortable. He prods Bucky until he wakes up halfway, grumbling, and then keeps poking him until he gets out of bed. The only get up long enough for each of them to use the bathroom, reheat and eat some pizza, and change into pajamas before going back to bed. It’s five in the afternoon, and neither of them care. They fall back asleep in seconds. 

It’s almost a full 24 hours before they get up long enough to do more than the same go to the bathroom, get some food, and go back to bed routine. They’re sitting on the couch trying to muster the energy to turn on the tv when the doorbell rings at 10:30 sharp. Clint grumbles when he goes to answer it. Natasha has sent them a full brunch spread from a nice fancy restaurant and a card that only says ‘you owe me’. They eat it sprawled on the couch watching tv, and then they take a nap right there when they’re done. 

Bucky has to go back to SHIELD in the afternoon to finish his debrief and file his mission report. Clint goes along because he doesn’t want to be too far away. He can’t sit in on the debrief or help with the reports, so he goes to the range and gets in a little bit of practice. Bucky meets him there and they go to the cafeteria for lunch. A lot of their fellow agents greet Bucky after his long absence, but he doesn’t engage many of them in conversation. He’s too focused on eating his food and watching Clint, who’s starting to wonder if there’s something on his face. 

They get called to the Tower before they can go back to Clint’s apartment. Steve gives each of them a big hug and says it’s nice to see them. Tony has new weapons for each of them to try out, and Bruce sits nearby and occasionally tosses in comments in geek speak. Today Clint doesn’t care to pretend that he doesn’t understand it. Natasha and Wanda challenge them to a sparring match, which they lose gracefully. Sam and Pietro both check in with them, and then they get roped into staying for team dinner and movie night, where they squish together in the big armchair and fall asleep ten minutes into the movie. Later on, neither of them can even say what movie it was, or how they got into the bed in Steve’s spare room, but they don’t care enough to ask. 

“So, you two have been spending a lot of time together lately,” Steve says when they drag themselves to breakfast the next morning. Clint and Bucky both stare at him blankly before Bucky fishes Clint’s hearing aids out of his pocket and Clint hands Bucky a cup of coffee. Steve raises an eyebrow at them. Bucky shrugs as he sips. 

“ _Someone_ has been too busy for his best friend lately, so I had to go find a new friend to hang out with,” Bucky says. Steve has the grace to look embarrassed and his ears turn pink. Clint snickers into his mug. 

“Yeah, Natasha hasn’t been around much either. I don’t know where she’s been, but she’s been smiling like she’s getting laid on the regular so I haven’t asked,” Clint says. “I really don’t wanna know.” Steve’s ears turn red and Bucky and Clint share a look over their coffee. 

“Something you want to tell us, Steve?” Bucky says. 

“Uh, nope, I’m good.” Steve dumps his empty plate in the sink. “I’m just gonna go, uh, watch...the news,” he says before fleeing. Bucky smirks after him and Clint laughs, shuffling around the kitchen to get breakfast. Bucky leans back on the counter to watch him, smiling into his coffee, admiring the kind of easy grace he has when he manages not to be clumsy.

_God, I wish I could tell him how much I love him,_ Bucky thinks. Suddenly, the morning doesn’t seem quite as bright as it did before. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter by the lovely Fox can be found here

After spending another night at Clint’s, he and Bucky go to get coffee and breakfast. Clint has nothing edible in his apartment aside from stale crackers and questionable-looking, mushy vegetables. Bucky is standing back from the register with his hands in his pockets, having already ordered and stepped aside to check out their name brand, nine dollar cups, while Clint tries to fumble out his wallet. The nice girl behind the register smiles at both of them. 

“We have samples of our new sugar cookie, would you like to try it?” she asks. 

“Yeah, sure,” Clint responds, never one to turn down free food. She hands a bite-size sample to him and he pops it in his mouth. It’s a really good cookie.

“What about your boyfriend back there?” she asks, nodding to Bucky. 

Clint swallows, just a tad too early. “Uh, sure, why not?” he says, accepting another sample and handing it to Bucky. 

“I’m not his boyfriend,” Bucky says, looking a little nonplussed as he stands there holding the sample. 

“But I’d like him to be,” Clint says under his breath. There’s a second of silence and then, 

“What?”

Clint feels his eyes go wide, having forgotten about Bucky’s dang super hearing, and the girl looks like she’s struggling not to laugh. “Your total is seventeen eighty nine, your order will be ready in a few minutes,” she says, squeaking slightly. Clint pays mindlessly, thoughts running in anxious circles, and then shuffles out of the line to where Bucky’s waiting. Bucky doesn’t say anything, and Clint’s not sure if that’s better or worse. 

Bucky leans over and gets the girl’s attention before she can take the next order. “Hey, can we get those to go instead, please?” he asks. She chirps out a reply and Clint’s full of dread. Oh crap, Bucky’s not just going to let it slide, he’s going to make them go back to Clint’s apartment so they can have it out in private. The girl hands over the bag with their breakfast in it, and the brownie Clint ordered smells so good and chocolatey, but he doesn’t even want to eat it now, his stomach’s all tied up in knots. 

They get handed their drinks and then leave without making eye contact with anyone. The walk back is quiet and awkward, and the sudden space between them has Clint feeling cold. Bucky continues to not say anything until the apartment door is firmly shut behind them, their breakfast is on the table, and Bucky’s taken his jacket off. Clint’s not comforted by the fact that Bucky keeps his shoes on. 

“Can we—forget I ever said that?” Clint blurts out. 

Bucky looks at him, startled. “What?” 

“Can we just ignore it?” he says, anxious. “It was just a stupid comment and you weren’t supposed to hear it but I just, I forgot how good your hearing is. I just really don’t want to lose you as a friend, okay? It’s not worth it to me.” 

Bucky stares at him for a moment before looking away and rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. He starts to speak and then turns back to face him. “Clint, I—I was actually going to say that I wouldn’t mind being your boyfriend.” 

“You what?” 

“I wouldn’t mind being your boyfriend.”

“I know, I heard that, but—what?”

Bucky kind of laughs and brings his hands up to sign as he speaks. “I like you.” 

“Oh crap, I’m dreaming. Or I have a concussion again and I’m hallucinating.” 

Bucky laughs again. “Clint, I promise you’re awake and you’re not hallucinating.” 

Clint eyes him cautiously. “Are you sure _you_ don’t have a concussion?” 

“Clint.” Bucky steps forward with his hands out, and Clint moves into the hug because he needs it after how stressful the morning has been. Bucky wraps around him just as tight as usual and Clint feels some of the tension seep out of him, fought off by Bucky’s warmth. Clint’s phone goes off before they can get too comfortable, and Bucky pulls it out of his pocket. “Natasha’s on her way to pick you up.” 

“Aww, crap, already?” Clint whines. “I haven’t even had breakfast yet and we’ve barely talked.” 

Bucky smiles and kisses Clint’s forehead as he tucks Clint’s phone back in his pocket. “Hurry up and eat then; we can talk while you do and hey, I’ll still be here when you get back.” 

“Promise?” Clint doesn’t care about sounding needy. 

“I promise.” Bucky steers him over to the table and sets out their breakfast. Clint takes a big gulp of his coffee. 

“So how long…?” he starts. 

“I’ve been pining since we shared my bed after you wore yourself out at the range,” Bucky says. Clint nearly chokes on his coffee. 

“ _You’ve_ been pining?” he demands. “I’ve been pining since the first time you stayed over! How did I never notice?!” 

Bucky just shrugs. “We’re both super spies? Hiding stuff is kind of in the job description.” 

“Jeez.” Clint stares at the table top until Bucky catches his ankle between his feet. When he looks up, Bucky’s smiling bashfully at him. Clint smiles shyly back and then breaks his extra-chocolate brownie in half, offering one part to him. Bucky takes it and gives Clint half of his fancy healthy-person strawberry scone in exchange. A pounding on the door makes them both jump halfway out of their seats. Natasha barges through the door a second later. 

“Time to go, Clint!” She breezes through the apartment and comes back with Clint’s bag. “Say goodbye to your boyfriend and let’s go!” 

Clint turns to find Bucky sticking Clint’s half of breakfast back in the bag it came in and holding it out to him. Clint takes it but then grabs Bucky’s hand. 

“You promise you’ll still be here when I get back?” he asks again. 

Bucky nods. “I promise,” he says solemnly. He frees his hand and gives Clint his coffee. 

“Mission, Clint! Now!” Natasha calls from the doorway. 

“You better go,” Bucky says with a poor attempt at a smile. 

“Right.” Clint turns and starts toward the door and then makes a small noise in his throat and turns back, hurrying over to peck Bucky on the cheek. Then he hurries back over to the door. “I’ll be back before too long, try not to miss me too much!” Clint calls over his shoulder, and then Natasha slams the door shut behind him. 

~

If Bucky had a choice, he would spend the week that Clint’s gone curled up in Clint’s bed. Unfortunately, Sam and Natasha are on the mission and Steve isn’t, so he’s opted to pester Bucky to keep himself from missing them too much. It’s a great distraction but Bucky’s ready to hogtie him and drop him off back in his own apartment just so that Bucky can get some peace and quiet by the end of the third day. 

Bucky begs Maria for a favor and practically cheers when Steve gets called in to redo some paperwork that got misplaced. He uses the two days of freedom that buys him to hang out with Kate and take Lucky to the park, and then do some grocery shopping so Clint will actually have something in his fridge that’s edible when he comes home. He starts cleaning up around the apartment, gathering stray clothes so he can do his and Clint’s laundry. It isn’t until he’s putting his clothes away in his drawer in Clint’s dresser that it hits him that he’s almost completely living there. 

Bucky sits down hard on the bed and stares at the folded shirt in his hands. He can’t remember the last time he spent a night in his SHIELD bunk except for when he’s come back from missions late at night. Have they been dating all this time without knowing it? 

The next few days pass in a blur of being equal parts annoyed and entertained by Steve. 

Later on Bucky finds out that when Natasha messages him to let him know they’re in debrief, it’s not when they’ve freshly returned, and that they’d actually been back for a full day by that point. In that full day, Clint was being held by SHIELD medical. 

When Bucky shows up in the debriefing wing, he has to wait for two hours before the door opens and Clint emerges. Bucky has the urge to run and hug him like before, but he stops when he sees the black eye and bandages on his face. Clint makes a wounded noise, arms already half outstretched, and Bucky closes the rest of the distance to wrap him in a gentle hug. He runs his fingers gently up and down Clint’s spine, and Clint melts into him. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow at him, but Bucky doesn’t care. Clint’s back and in one piece even if he is banged up. Bucky sets his hands lightly on Clint’s shoulders and steps back to look at him. Clint sighs. 

“I have a bruise on my left thigh from falling wrong, otherwise you can see everything,” he says, and holds out his arms. There’s a bandage on his left forearm, one on his right bicep and pinky finger. The knuckles on both hands look busted up, and he’s got smaller bandages on his left cheek and across his nose to go with the black eye. “You should see the other guy.” The joke falls flat when Bucky takes Clint’s hands in his and kisses them both, meeting his eyes. 

“You two will be okay to get home, right?” Natasha asks, passing by. 

“Yeah, thanks, Nat,” Clint says distractedly. Sam files by them, looking amused, followed by Maria, Wanda, and Bruce. Bucky picks up Clint’s bag, which had been set beside them at some point, and wraps an arm around his shoulders as they leave the building. Clint nearly falls asleep on his shoulder on the cab ride back to his apartment, and Bucky seriously considers just carrying him upstairs. In the end Clint wakes up when he opens the car door, so he only guides him up the stairs and inside. 

Clint leans against the wall and lets Bucky take both their shoes off and then they stumble through to the bedroom. Bucky helps him take his pants off but Clint still has enough presence of mind to hesitate at the shirt. Bucky watches him patiently. 

“Have you been wearing your binder today?” Bucky asks gently. 

“I, what? Uh, no, not since yesterday. How did you…?” 

Bucky smiles. “I figured you were different like me a while ago, I just didn’t have the language for it. I looked it up while you were gone.” 

“And...you don’t mind?” Clint twists his hands in the hem of his shirt. Bucky leans in and kisses him, soft and sweet. 

“No, sweetheart, I don’t mind. You didn’t mind me in the dress and makeup, did you?”

“No, of course not. You can wear whatever you want.” 

“Thanks, honey, that means a lot.” Bucky gives him a smile that takes his breath away. “I’ll get your binder and then you can put it on before we lie down, if you want,” Bucky says. Clint bites his lip and nods. Bucky fetches it for him and then turns his back and strips down to his own boxers. They’re dark gray and boring, not nearly as fun as Clint’s bright purple target boxers, but they’re comfortable. Bucky gives Clint another minute before turning around. Clint’s changed from his shirt to his binder and he’s just about swaying on his feet. 

“Come on, boyfriend. Let’s go to bed.” 

Clint beams at him. “I’m really your boyfriend?” 

“Unless you wanna use a different word.”

“No no, boyfriend’s fine.” Clint leans into him and Bucky steers him to the bed. Clint curls up around his pillow and Bucky wraps himself around his back. 

“I think you would look nice in a skirt. You have nice legs,” Clint mumbles. Bucky chuckles and kisses the back of his shoulder. 

“Go to sleep, Clint.” 

“Kay. Night.” 

“Goodnight, Clint.” 

[](https://78.media.tumblr.com/f5ba9899b0848fa82bdfda8aaa2c9c05/tumblr_p0q802cE3M1wopj8wo1_1280.jpg)


End file.
